Three Kings
by Rite
Summary: Well, more like one king and two queens. Actually, more like a king, a queen, and a guy who's a queen, but is really a king. And really, none of them are really kings...or queens...shut up.


**A/N** : Ever notice how Wipeout is the only show on TV that makes you forget the contestants names?

. . .

* * *

A young man walked up the stairs to the college. He readjusted the hood on his head from his cloak as the cold wind was shifting it back down. He pulled it a little more forcefully then he had intended, resulting in a slight dis-comfort at the back of it head. He grumbled silently as he readjusted it again to remove the pain.

He was tired. He had traveled for so far and for so long. He had traveled for 2 weeks across Skyrim, from Solitude all the way to Winterhold. While he was use to the sun and slight breeze the shore gave him at home, he was unaccustomed to the fringed cold and high winds the people around here seemed so use to.

A slight misstep caused the boy to slip a few inches. He quickly repositioned his foot to stop, receiving a drop in the stomach as he looked down over the bridge. It was no doubt that while the college was respectable and prestige, it had fallen into some disrepair.

The bridge he stood on was old and broken. Cracks decorated the floor and columns, and whole pieces of the bridge were gone, perhaps fallen into the water below due to some sort of battle, or maybe a student who had wrongly casted a spell.

Whatever the case may be, he quickly made his way up the rest of the bridge and walked into the college's main square. While the square itself was beautiful, he was in no mood to appreciate the view and shuffled himself inside the main hall.

As he walked in, he caught one of the many student walking down the halls and asked if they could direct him to his destination. The student pointed him down the hall and to the farthest right. He thanked her as he walked down the main hall.

As he reached the end of the hall, it became very obvious to where he needed to go. He approached the large wooden double doors, noticing the high markings on it. Such complexity involved the carvings told him the person beyond this door was of high importance.

He stood in front of the door with a rapidly beating heart. This was it. The moment he had dreamed about and fantasized about since he was a small boy. Now the fantasy could continue into reality. He almost couldn't go in he was so excited.

He quickly pulled down his hood, brushed off any snow that might be still be on his person, hoping to the heavens that he looked presentable and knocked on the door.

A muffled voice behind the door replied "Enter". He took a very deep breath and opened the regal door.

He opened the door to an office, but an office filled to the brim of books and papers. Shelves were crammed and shoved full of tomes and encyclopedias, jars and bottles, and papers and scrolls. One could obviously tell this room belonged to a mage. And a mage could tell that it belonged to a mage that was very dedicated to the arts.

All of these items and more all surround a wooden desk at the center. The desk was made of a very dark wood, almost to the point of looking completely black. Its top was very similar to the room, covered in books and scrolls, and bottle or two here and there.

But no matter what type of knowledge or powerful spell those things offered, the most important thing to him rested at the chair of the desk.

The Arch-Mage.

The head of The College of Winterhold and to him, the most powerful mage in all of Skyrim, possibly all of Tamriel. The person at the desk, however, wasn't exactly what he expected. The women sitting at the desk was short and plain-looking, a simple Nord. She wore a simple black robe and had her hair tied up in a standard bun much like he had seen a few others here wearing.

While he did expect the Arch-Mage to be a big, powerful, looming figure, he should not judge. He knew well that people do not always appear to be what they seemed.

He gave a deep bow in respects to her presence and allowance of him to see her. She nodded with her head, acknowledging his respect, she gestured for him to sit down. He happily obliged and he eagerly sat down, heart still pumping with ecstaticment.

She put down the small pen she was holding and closed the book she was writing in, giving him her uninterrupted attention. "Now, how may I help you?". Her voice was smooth and soft, but had the sharpness of a teacher who wanted a student's attention. The young man took a deep breath and gave his introduction like he had practiced many times before.

"My name is Loet Kintheror, I come from the Skyrim capital of Solitude, and I have traveled here to train with you, madam.", he said, bowing his head again. When he looked up, she looked obviously confused, her brow sightly furrowed and cocked.

"Train with me? Why would you need to train with me?". The young man thought that this must be a test, so he continued on. "As the Arch-Mage, I believe you are the most highly skilled mage in all of Skyrim, you have almost infinite knowledge on anything and everything involved in the arts of magic. I wished to train under you in hopes that one day, I can become even a fraction as good as magic as yourself."

The Arch-Mage looked pleased, but still confused. Then she suddenly gave a look of realization and gave a hardy chuckle. The young man was now looking quizzical. She quickly answered his expression back.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no. I'm sorry. I might have accidentally deceived you. I am not the Arch-Mage." The young man could feel his face heat up at his embarrassment, as all that praise was only meant for the Arch-Mage to hear.

She gave another small chuckle at his embarrassment, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it was very rude of me to laugh." She said, trying to control her laughter. She continued on, "I am the Arch-Mage's assisstant." He looked up, still looking embarrassed, but said nothing.

"I sense that all that praise was meant for only our Arch-Mage to hear, correct?" He said nothing, but nodded his head. "Well" she started, "I find it very admirable that you think so highly of our college head." Hearing the praise that was given to himself, his confidence started to return to him, but still remained silent. Seeing as how the assistant was saw that she was going to have to talk for him, continued.

"You are looking to become one of the Arch-Mage's apprentices, are you not?" This time, he replied with a small 'yes'. She continued, but looked a bit solemn. He cringed at that look.

"I'm afraid to tell you that seems a bit impossible at the moment." Any and all the confidence that might have returned to him, was instantly sucked away, put into a bottle and sealed forever in a forgotten tomb. Seeing his obvious discouragement, she tried to console him.

"Please, try not to take it personally, it's just that the Arch-Mage isn't in the college at this moment..." Loet perked up at that, and began to finish her sentence, " ...but it would be once he returns, correct?" It seems that he is unsealing that tomb. Unfortunately, that tomb had a second door. She shook her head.

"That might be some time, however. While the Arch-Mage does run the college, he is rarely in the walls of the school". It would seem that this tombs second door was unbreakable. Loet felt terrible on the inside, his innards feeling as if they were clenching up in both anger and disappointment. His whole life's hopes and dreams, becoming a powerful mage, working side by side with the Arch-Mage, took all but five short minutes to be crushed.

He felt all of his strength leave him, not even enough left to move from his seat remained. The assistant felt bad for this boy. She could feel the disappointment coming off him in droves, as he sunk lower into his seat.

...

It was at that moment that she had decided something. Something she know she shouldn't do. It was her voice that brought him out of his inner despair, "I suppose, though..." She began, he glanced up at her, "If you were able find the Arch-Mage, you might able to convince him to teach you" Almost in an instant, all of his strength and confidence rushed to returned back to him. While he couldn't get into the tomb from the front, it seemed to have a backdoor.

Seeing his obvious excitement, she kept going, "I will tell you where you might be able to find the Arch-Mage, or at least as close as you can get to him." She was pleased to see how even more excited Loet seemed to get, "However, once you reach the area, finding him and convincing him to let him teach you will require your own persistence." Loet nodded profusely and stood up. The assistant stood up as well, then reached into the desk and produced a folded up piece of paper.

"This is the latest Spetim fund balance that was signed by the Arch-Mage." She said, having him lean over, pointing to a signature at the bottom. "As you can see, the courier's location came from Whiterun about 2 days ago." Again he nodded, already visualizing every route he could take to get there.

Hoping that Loet had memorized the location, she folded the piece of paper back up and slipped it back into the desk. Seeing as this was all he was going to get, Loet spoke, "Thank you so much, this means so much to me." The assistant gave a short smile and nod as he turned around to leave the office.

As he opened the door to walk out, the assistant's voice stopped him about half way. "When you do find the Arch-Mage, he might not be happy that you have searched him out. When he, and I know he will, gets mad; tell him that Avesa sent you. Hopefully you wont be destroyed on the spot." "Thank you" he said. Just as the door closed completely, it quickly opened up again.

"Oh wait! How will I know who the Arch-Mage is?"

"Well," Avesa started, "He should be easy enough to find, what with the people he travels with" She continued on, "He travels with two women. One is of the Orsimer variety and the other is an odd mix of a Nord and a Khajiit. The Arch-Mage himself is..."

* * *

"We're lost! Again!" A yell came from a blond-haired Nord as he grasped his head in his arms, riddled with frustration.

After only a week stay in Whiterun, three adventurers felt they were rested and rejuvenated enough to begin the rest of the trip to Riften. They spent a bit more time in this city than normal, as the next town they could stop in would be Ivarstead, at least another 5 days of travel.

The male of the three continued to walk in a direction, even though his earlier statement showed that he was unaware of where he was going. He was easily identifiable as a Nord. His blond hair and pale skin was an indicator of it. The only thing that would single his figure out would be the robes he was wearing, which were only worn by the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold.

The tallest of the two female walked behind him closely, her face showing obvious contempt for their friends sense of direction. She was an Orc. Both crossed armed and face twisted into annoyance, this Orc displayed a presence of strength, more so than any of the normal Orc would have. Her most stand out feature was her weapon of choice. On her back rested one of the largest battle axes that have ever to been forged. It's name was Wuuthrad, wielded before by the leader of the Companions, Ysgramor, and now held by its current Harbinger.

The shortest and other female of the three was definitely the oddest. Never before seen in any of Tamerial, possibly even Nirn, had been born a child of two races. The female was visually a Nord, the black hair and pale skin announced that, but with the most unusual features. Instead of normal Nord ears situated on the sides of her skull, they were replaced by two Khajiit ears that graced the top. One of them flickered in what could be interpreted as annoyance as the Nord shouted.

The attire she wore unconsciously gave her occupation away as not only a thief, but the Thieves Guild Master. At her backside, a Khajiit tail swayed back and forth lazily.

A female Orc crossed her arms, "Geez, the guard even asked you if you wanted directions". The Nord turned and sneered at her remark, not wanting to admit to his mistake. The Khajiit stood of to the side, observing the two's conversation.

"We've done this all before! I don't need directions to know where to go!" exclaimed the Nord. The Orc uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips.

"Well apparently you do! Seeing as we _don't_ know where to go!" she retorted back. The Nords face began to turn red in anger. The Khajiit inwardly slumped, having to bear through another, common argument.

"Then why didn't you get directions!? This is your fault!"

The Orc looked taken back, but quickly matched his anger. "My fault!? How is this my fault?! You lead us out here!" She gestured wildly to the open land. They currently resided somewhere between Whiterun and the mountains to the North of it.

The Nord stepped closer to her. "If you were so sure I would get us lost, why didn't you get the directions?!"

The Orc stepped closer as well, getting slightly in his face, "Ugh, trying to blame someone else! That's such man logic!"

The Nord stepped even closer, now completely in her face. "Yeah! That's the correct kind of logic!", he continued on.

Yuri rubbed her ears as she walked a little ways from their arguing. Their annoying volume of their voices were starting to hurt her ears. The three of them were now on their way to Riften, Skyrim's east side capital, know notoriously as the base of operations for the Thieves Guild.

Since she was the Guild Master, she was to have all information on the guild every so often. She usually has an update message delivered to her via courier to keep up with all events. She had received a her usual message from Brynjolf, her second in command, about 2 weeks ago while they were in Solitude.

It was a standard letter. It told her of the status of the guild; any current jobs that had been completed, any situations that needed her attention, etc. However, underneath his normal reportings, Brynjolf had written another paragraph, different from the lines of big words and numbers. It was written in a more casual handwriting. It spoke of a new recruit Brynjolf had picked up in the marketplace.

So far, the recruit has preformed each of their given assignments overly well and Brynjolf opinion had seem to speak very highly of them. His letter addressed that since Yuri wasn't there, this newbie couldn't be officially admitted into the Thieves Guild.

She sent her response letter back to him the next day. She had thought about it carefully. Even though she valued Brynjolf's opinions, Yuri decided that she would like to see this one herself.

_'Plus,'_ she grinned, _'Its been a while since I had any fun.'_

While she mulled over these thoughts, a small flash of dark brown caught her eye in the forest of green. Deadpanning at what she saw, she forfeited her current plans and turned back to the others still arguing.

"Guys..." she tried. Her voice was drowned out by the increasing volume of their voices, almost if they sensed she was trying to talk.

"And do you ever talk normally!? We don't need some stupid, educated explanation from you!"

"I sometimes forget that someone of your brain power would be confused by big words!"

"EXCUSE ME?!"

"Guys..."

"Yes! Excuse you! Glad to see your apologizing for your small brain!"

"Don't be fooled! I won't apologize for breaking your arms!"

"Guys...!" The halfling pushed. "WHAT?!" They both yelled, anger directed at her. The halfling turned and pulled away very light brush to revel a sign, covered in small overgrowth. "The sign points to Riften" pointing her finger in the direction of the arrow.

Both the Orc and Nord immediately lost their anger, but then quickly tried to rationalize it. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?!" The Orc said. The halfling shook her head as she turned and began to walk in the direction of Riften, "I did. You guys were just too busy destroy every animal in a 5 mile radius' ear drums"

The two just grumbled under their breaths at both each other and at the Khajiit as they followed her.

* * *

Riften was located on the extreme East side of Skyrim, making travel from almost any city to it a long one. The three began their trip from Whiterun almost 2 days ago and even though they have traveled countless miles, it was still at least another 3 to 4 days before Riften was reached.

Risk cracked his neck as he stared into the fire, letting the flames' heat warm the other two as they all sat around the fire. He ignored the slight grumble in his stomach and tried to shrug of the minor knot beginning to form. Looking to the right, he glanced at the lump of a person, wrapped profusely in a blanket in an attempt to keep warm.

Being a Nord, Risk was comfortable in the most absolutely frigged climates. The fire he sat around wasn't too necessary, but any person would admit that the heat it gave off felt good. Despite being perfectly fine by himself, his two companions were not as much.

Urog had left a few moments ago to scout for some type of food, not bothering to take a blanket to wrap herself or at least a torch. She was either too tough to care about climate, or she was the world best resister to shivers and chattering teeth.

Yuri was curled up in her blanket next to him. Being only a half Nord, she was too Khajiit to resist the cold, but being half Khajiit, too Nord to have any fur.

She had completely covered herself in the blanket, mocking the appearance of one's traveler's bag. Soft snore emitted from the lump of blankets, with the occasional shift and mumble.

Risk attention was broke when he winced at a louder groan from his stomach that announced that it needed to feed. He growled at his own organs, silently telling them to shut their mouths. His internal battle was signed a treaty when Urog walked back to camp and very unladylike plopped down on the ground around the campfire.

Risk spoke as he shifted his glance to the flames, "I assuming you brought back food?" Urog match his gaze by also looking into the fire, "That depends, how many ways can you cook a rock"

A sneer appeared on his face, as his stomach broke their treaty and voiced its discomfort. She matched his sneer,. Risk turned to her and began a glaring contest background by fire.

While the two began their competition, Yuri continued to sleep. Every so often underneath the blankets, her ear would slightly twitch.

A few yards away, hidden in the black of night, a man on a horse watch them from afar. He watch as the Nord and the Orc squabbled away, becoming completely ignorant of their surroundings. A trait that is sure to get you killed in Skyrim.

He shifted his attention from the two to the bag that laid across the fire to them. Such a bag like that between two people must be enough to last them almost a whole year. The contents full of possible food, some gold, a few minor weapons, and maybe a few valuables.

It was obvious to take it.

He took maybe a few moments to asses his method of stealing. He made up his mind when he decided the best course of action was to just rush it.

He took his horse a few paces, making sure to chart his path to make his as his horse could get a good enough footing, he made sure the two were still arguing before he launched into a full speed gallop. It wouldn't matter if the two heard the noise, by the time they even stood up, he would have already grabbed the bag and be half a mile away.

As he approached closer, the two had yet to make any kind of movement. These two must be idiots if they couldn't even hear the horse.

The grab was quick and almost a blur, but he was nothing but positive that the two had seen him. He threw the bag to the back of his horse, regardless of what the contents were and rode as quickly as he could.

No doubt the two would be on his tail in seconds.

* * *

The two still continued to glare, if not a little less fiercely at each other, despite the two being completely aware of what just happened.

Risk broke the silence, still continuing to glare at her, "Well, at least we have food now" Urgo didn't move, but silently nodded in agreement.

* * *

The man pulled over his horse at his camp a few miles away, as he jumped off the side. After the first mile, he began to weave back and forth, hoping they would lose sight of him. After the second back track, he was fairly confidant that they had lost him. He quickly tied up his horse as he pulled the sack off the back of it. He gave a slight 'ouf' as the pack was hefted onto his shoulder. Whatever they were carrying, it was heavy.

He gave a small nodded to the female bandit guarding the entrance and road as he walked inside.

He exhaustively plopped down on the nearest chair and table as he exhaled a breathe that he didn't know he was holding. After the few moments he took to compose himself, he dragged the pack to his side.

"Okay" he said to himself, bring the pack into his arms, "Show me some gold". He unceremoniously dumped the contents out.

It was odd, but to him, the pile food and gold almost seemed to form the shape of a small girl.

The girl's ears twitched as a minor smile was resting on her sleeping face. She then opened her eyes and looked directly into his.

Her small smile quickly formed into grin that threatened to split her face in two. She opened her mouth, exposing her large canines.

"Hello"

* * *

Risk and Urgo strolled into the now liberated bandit camp, careful to step over and around any bodies that would be in their path. Yuri sat in a chair next to the table, counting a number of septims from over turned piles of bags.

Risk took a seat across from Yuri. Urgo, noticing the blood on her seat of choice, gave a disgusted look before opting to sit on the table to the side.

Urgo then grinned and folded her hands in her lap, "So, how rich are we?"

Yuri grinned back as she slowly poured the gold from her hands all over the table. "Rich enough to we're were sure not eating any rocks tonight" Both giggled at both their joke and that they didn't have to see Risk attempt to cook rocks.

Risk nodded his head very seriously, "Good, that means we can buy some essentials in the next town. Food. Water. Mead" Urgo nodded her head in agreement as Yuri looked skeptical. "Mead? How's that an essential?"

But really? Why does she ask, she knows the answer.

"It's an essential 'cause we need it"

"How do you need it"

Urgo answered, "How else would we deal with you?" Yuri pouting and crossed her arms. "I need a real answer before I start throwing money at you" she then narrowed her eyes, "Or something heavier at you"

Risk shifted around in his chair, folding his hands together. "Mead is a well-known cognitive impair-er designed to stimulate the dopamine in the brain and to initiate the feelings of both warmth and bad judgement"

Yuri just stared, still not feeling her questions being answered, "What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means both of us need to keep our judgement impair so we don't kill you"

"Hey!" Yuri stood up, "Why would you say that?!" she looked insulted. Both Urgo or Risk continued to stare at her through her glare. She admitted defeat before sighing and sitting back down in her chair.

"Yeah, I'd kill me too."

The others just nodded.

* * *

Loet slowly walked into the inn inside of Whiterun. Ever since leaving the college, he traveled with the quickest pace his body could muster. He needed to get to Whiterun as quickly as he could. In his mind, he fantasized about meeting the Arch-Mage just as he was about to leave, the tale of his journey enough to impress the college head so much, that he would want to train him.

Not wanting this fantasy to be just that, he quicken his pace even more, find out that if he skipped every other night of sleep, he could decrease his travel time by a whole 3 days.

However, after the 4 day of his new lifestyle, he body began to give out and if he was on the road for even one more day, he was sure he would have collapsed from exhaustion and that his body would have been left to the wolves.

At the first syllabub of the inn keeper's sentence, he collapsed into the first chair he saw. He hoped that the Arch-Mage was still here and that maybe he could rest, even for a moment.

One of the inn assistance walked up to him and offered him something to eat or drink. He gladly accepted the invitation and requested as much mead as his coin could buy him.

Once he was happily surrounded in a sea of bottles, he began his search. He walked up to the inn keeper, the most obvious choice in finding out who had stayed here. He approached her as she was just starting to clean the counter.

"Excuse me, ma'am" He said. The inn keeper looked up from the table at the sound of his voice. She put her rag away and placed he hands on the table at the sight of a customer.

"So, what can I get 'cha?" she answered. Loet cleared his throat.

"Do you know if in the last few days, there has been a blond Nord who has stayed here?" she only gave a slight paused to his question before she quickly answering, "Sorry hun, but you're going to have to be a bit more specific than that". Seeing as he wasn't here to buy, she took out her rag and began to clean the table again.

Loet felt pretty dumb. Blond haired Nords were a pretty common sight. You could never ask if someone saw them, it's a bit too much to remember every Nord in Skyrim.

"Sorry, let me try again. Have you seen a blond-haired Nord, maybe wearing some fancy robes?" he paused before remembering some more, "Possibly traveling with a female Orc and/or a shorter girl"

In a fraction of a second the keeper's face went from neutral to complete recognition. It was so sudden, he almost identified it as shock or even anger. After a brief period, she spoke.

"Oh, I know exactly who you're talking about" she stated in a very knowing attitude.

Loet, not catching on to her attitude quickly brightened up, "Really?! Was he here?!". The inn keeper again put her rag away and placed her hands on the table, but this time seemed more like she was trying to relax then pay attention.

"Oh boy, were they here" She finally said after another small silence. "You'd have to be deaf, blind, drunk and stupid not to notice the three of them here". Loet was a bit taken back by this sentence, but still pressed on. "Do you know if they're still here?" he asked.

She crossed her arms on the table, her demeanor seeming to relax for some reason. "Thank Talos, no".

Loet's posture instantly slumped, again he could already feel his journey lengthening itself. "Well," he gambled, "Do you know where they went?" Again, the inn keeper's attitude changed to an uncomfortable position.

"Again, you would need to have some serious impairments to not know", seeing as he wasn't here for some private spectacle, she explained, "The last I saw of them, they were all crowded around a map, arguing about travel to Riften." She paused, "With all the yelling, I'm surprised everyone doesn't know where their Grandma lives".

Loet had stopped listening after she had said Riften. His body groaned at the very thought of moving again, but his mind urged it into overdrive. If he left now, he could definitely catch them on their way to the city, if not, them for sure in Riften!

He quickly placed some gold on the counter for the women's troubles and hurriedly rushed towards the door. Before he could take a third step, he was stopped by a hand being firmly placed around his forearm.

"Hold on, boy", the inner keeper said as she reeled him back in. "When was the last time you rested? Look at you! Your eyes have bags that resemble the body of an overweight Horker".

Loet felt almost insulted as the inn keeper dragged him up the stairs to the inn rooms.


End file.
